


smoke signals

by goingmywaydoll



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cassian Andor-centric, Criminal!Jyn, F/M, FBI Agent!Cassian, Implied Sexual Content, did i just write something with a happy ending??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10043267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingmywaydoll/pseuds/goingmywaydoll
Summary: “Cassian?” Bodhi’s voice crackles through the phone and Cassian blinks at himself in the mirror.“Yeah, still here,” he says, the words thick in his throat. “What precinct is she at?”...A companion piece/sequel todon't call me at all





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a total piece of crap. i am certain there are tons of missed continuity errors with [don't call me at all](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9797867) but i did try to make them as seamless and compatible as possible. it's surprisingly hard to write two sides of the same story, i didn't want scenes from don't call me at all to be boring and repetitive but i wanted cassian's viewpoint to be expressed. also you should definitely read don't call me at all before you read this, otherwise you'll probably be confused
> 
> honestly, i am pretty unhappy with the way this turned out and i think i could have done a lot better with it but i'm super busy and didn't have the energy to change it if i'm being honest. so sorry about that.

** tuesday, 5:42 am **

“Jyn’s been arrested.”

Really, Cassian doesn’t know what he should have expected when he got out of the shower to be greeted by four texts and three voicemails from Bodhi. 

“Again?” he says dryly, running a hand through his wet hair. He catches sight of himself in the mirror, wiry frame with a towel held around his hips by his free hand. His jaw is brushed with stubble and a voice that sounds suspiciously like Kay tells him it’s time to shave. He’s become accustomed to the bags under his eyes but today he looks particularly worn down. If he were someone else, he’d call in sick and go back to bed. The alarm clock on his bedside table, visible from the bathroom, reads 5:45 am. 

“She’s not been caught for months now,” Bodhi says and the defensive tone of his voice makes Cassian want to dig his nails into his palm to curb his anger. It’s not Bodhi he’s angry at, though he is unsure as to why the engineering student so adamantly defends Jyn. 

(Though if he’s being honest with himself, he knows why, because most of the time, he’s guilty of the same thing. Or at least he used to be.)

“‘Caught’ being the key word,” says Cassian.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Bodhi says after deciding to ignore Cassian’s last comment.

“Maybe calling her FBI agent ex-boyfriend was not the best idea.”

_“What’s this?” Jyn is standing in the door of his bedroom and she’s holding his holster with his gun and wearing nothing but his dark blue button down. Official FBI issue, with the safety locked into place._

_Wordlessly, he reaches across the bed to where his pants are, digging into the pockets. He weighs the familiar badge in his hand before tossing it to her. She catches it deftly with the hand that isn’t holding his holster and stares at it blankly before looking up at him._

_“You said you worked for the government,” she says, setting down his holster but keeping his badge grasped tightly in her hand. She comes to the bed and kneels on it. There are a good two feet between them but it’s never felt farther._

_“I do,” he says because it’s true._

_“You didn’t say you worked for the blood FBI!” she snaps and he can’t help but noticed the way her accent becomes even more pronounced when she’s angry._

_“Is it going to be a problem?” he asks, like it’s a throwaway comment despite the fact that he’s watching her carefully for any sign of flight._

_Jyn doesn’t answer and he thinks that means yes, but he doesn’t say anything further. She fiddles with the badge, weighing it in her palm and moving it from hand to hand._

_“Can I see your ID?” she asks and he can’t mask the surprise that flits across his face. He nods and pulls it from the pocket of his pants. Her hand brushes against his when he passes it to her and he watches as she flinches. She flips the ID open and runs her finger across the surface of the lamented paper, skimming across his signature and pausing over his photo._

_“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says. She hands the ID back but doesn’t meet his eyes._

_“_ Cassian?” Bodhi’s voice crackles through the phone and Cassian blinks at himself in the mirror.

“Yeah, still here,” he says, the words thick in his throat. “What precinct is she at?”

 

* * *

 

**tuesday, 8:09 am**

He’s surprised he doesn’t crash the car on his way back from Jyn’s apartment. His fingers are clenched around the wheel. The places where she touched him when her lips pressed to his feel sensitive and exposed. 

The light switches from yellow to red and he slams on the breaks, his back hitting his seat hard. The car behind him honks and he swears loud enough that the woman walking down the sidewalk turns to look at him disapprovingly. He nods his apologies and rolls up the window, rubbing his face with both hands. His eyes are screwed shut, which proves to be a bad idea, because all he can see is Jyn pulling away and practically jumping from the car. He opens his eyes and wills himself to stare at the streetlight for so long his vision turns into a red blur and he blinks twice, shaking his head. 

He should have known better than to pick her up and think it would mean nothing, would result in nothing. His knuckles have gone white he’s clutching the wheel so hard and he bites the inside of his cheek, pushing from his mind the image of a rumpled Jyn following the police officer into the lobby of the station. 

The car behind him lets out a long and angry honk and he glances up to see the green light. His foot presses down on the peddle perhaps a little too hard but at least the honking stops.

“You’re late,” Kay says simply when Cassian slings his bag over his desk chair. His partner is seated at his own desk across from Cassian’s, his fingertips tented as he looks Cassian up and down. “And you look terrible.”

“Thanks, Kay.” He collapses into his chair, turning on his computer and resisting the urge to put his face in his hands. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Kay is studying him carefully, his eyes narrowed.

“Where were you?” 

“My car broke down,” says Cassian without missing a beat. He’s always been good at lying, but Kay always seemed to see through him. 

“I do not believe you,” his partner says, making Cassian finally look up and meet Kay’s eyes. 

“That is not my problem,” he says and if it were anyone else, they’d see his words as a warning.

“It has something to do with Jyn Erso, doesn't it?” Kay leans forward, his voice lowered. 

“No.” The word comes out easily and Cassian doesn’t blink as he lies. Kay narrows his eyes again.

“I still do not believe you.”

“Like I said,” Cassian says, flipping a case file open and lowering his gaze to it, “That is not my problem.”

Kay purses his lips and leans back in his chair, making Cassian think that’s the end of it. He should know better.

“I think it is your problem,” Kay says carefully and Cassian sighs, looking up again with his jaw set. “What a tragedy it would be if someone…let it slip about your romantic history. Dating a criminal is generally frowned upon in the FBI.”

“Kay…” This time, the warning in his tone is not missed, though unnecessary. Both Cassian and Kay know the threat is empty. 

 

* * *

 

**friday, 9:16 pm**

It’s been an hour since Kes Dameron told him to try to get some sleep and two since Kay distastefully glanced at the unorganized files piled on Cassian’s desk before telling him he’d see him tomorrow. The office is empty but for him, all the lights but his desk lamp flicked off by the janitor fifteen minutes earlier. There’s a mug of cold coffee perched atop a stack of files and it tastes burnt and watery but he drinks it anyway.

He’s lived in the States for seven years now, but as the words swim across the page, he feels as though he’s forgotten every word of English he’s learned since he moved. 

He throws his pen down on his desk and leans back in his chair, rubbing his face. He needs to shave, badly, and he could do with a couple extra hours of sleep.

“What, so I can owe you one more thing?” she had said to him.

He briefly contemplates calling her—he almost reaches for his phone—but her words echo in his ears and he stands instead, pushing his chair in and throwing his blazer on. He attempts to organize his desk at least a little bit and wonders when exactly he stopped being so neat.

_The floor of Jyn’s apartment is cold on his feet and his toes curl as he stands. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers and Jyn has stolen all the blankets (again). His feet pad across the floor, careful not to wake her. He had allowed himself a pause before he crawled out of bed, to watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyelids fluttered as if she was going to wake before she burrows deeper into the duvet._

_“What’re you doing?” Her voice is slow and sleepy and he turns to face her, eyes wide in a bashful expression. She’s propped up in bed, leaning forward and squinting through the dark._

_“Nothing, go back to sleep,” he says, waving his hand. He didn’t expect it to work and it doesn’t. She blindly fumbles for the light switch beside the bed and flicks it on, flinching in the new light._

_“Cassian, come back to bed,” she says and he almost does, swaying on his feet._

_“I’ll just be a minute,” he says, bending down to pick up his discarded dress shirt._

_“‘M cold,” she says, pulling the duvet up to her shoulders._

_“Really? I couldn’t tell, with you stealing all the blankets,” he says, his lips curving upwards as he begins to fold his shirt neatly, setting it on the top of her cupboard._

_“Are you folding your shirt?” she asks, squinting at him again, her head tilted to the side._

_“I didn’t want it to wrinkle,” he mutters, half hoping she doesn’t hear it and goes back to bed. He was foolish to think Jyn would ever leave it alone._

_“You don’t want it to wrinkle,” she repeats, a grin stretching across her face._

_“…Jyn,” he says, bending down to pick up his dress pants too._

_“Get over here,” she says._

_“In a second.”_

_“Cassian.” The way she says her name is enough to drag his head upwards to meet her gaze again. She’s no longer grinning widely, but there’s something of a fond smile across her lips. He lets his slacks fall from his hands to the floor as he approaches the bed, kneeling on it. She shimmies forward so she’s able to pull his head down to hers, kissing him softly. He doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed softly by anyone, except for maybe in middle school back in Mexico._

The memory breaks off like an old TV—a split second of static, then he’s dragged back to the present, digging in his pocket for his ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“Andor!” Kes Dameron’s voice is so loud it makes Cassian flinch and he holds the phone away from his ear. “Where are you?”

“The office,” Cassian says.

“Of course you are,” Kes says, then yells something to someone, the words blurring together in the din of whatever bar they were in. Probably the same they always went to, the one Jyn had asked about, the one he had wanted to bring her to introduce her to everyone, the one that she had said there were too many cops in the room to make her feel comfortable. They spent the night eating pretzels and drinking beer in bed instead. 

_Her skin was soft against his. Her eyes were closed but he couldn’t look at her when he said it, so he kept his head buried in her neck, his mouth moving against her skin, his words muffled._

_“I can’t do this anymore.”_

“Kay says he’ll personally drag you down here, against your will if he has to,” Kes says and Cassian sighs, punching the button by the elevator perhaps a little more roughly than needed. “You haven’t been out with us since that girl dumped you, man, you need a break.”

“I broke up with her,” Cassian says tiredly, rubbing his eyes and stepping into the elevator.

“What?” Cassian flinches again as Kes yells again.

“Nothing, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Well, either way, get down here. It’s a Friday night, are you really going to spend it at the office?”

Three hours later, he’s sober enough to only be thinking about calling Jyn instead of actually doing it. He’s sitting at the bar, one hand playing with the straw from his whiskey, the other holding his phone. Jyn’s contact information floats in front of him and his thumb hovers over the call button. He tells himself it’s only to check in on her, see how she’s doing after last week.

“Chin up, buttercup,” Kes says, plopping himself onto the stool next to Cassian. Kay is not far behind, his eyes narrowed as he catches sight of Cassian’s phone, which is now getting safely tucked into his pocket. “Why the long face?”

“Tell me, Dameron, do you only speak in clichés or is that only when you're shitfaced?” Kay asks. Kes says something equally as snarky back, but Cassian is no longer paying attention. He's glad for Kay's quick, unintentional deflection. Kes has the annoying habit of checking up on Cassian and he is not in the mood for it tonight. Kay says something about the bathroom, Kes catches sight of his wife entering the bar and is off like a light, leaving Cassian alone at the bar once more.

His thumb hovers over the call button, his hand curiously still. Kay is in the bathroom. Kes is talking to Shara. He could do it. He could call her, duck outside, pretend to be on a work call. He could press the button and hear her voice. If she picked up. Oddly, it’s the first time the thought has crossed his mind. Now he thinks on it, he doubts she would. 

Someone behind him bumps into him, mutters an apology, and shuffles off before he can even raise his head. When he looks back to his screen, it’s to display the words _Calling Jyn Erso…_

His thumb is still hovering over the screen, a breath away from the _End Call_ button. He watches as the screen changes again.

_Call with: Jyn Erso_

Then, below it, _00:01_ , the numbers ticking upwards with each passing second. It reads _00:05_ when he lifts the phone to his ear.

“Jyn,” he says, ducking his head downward and turning towards the bar.

Somehow, though he's still sitting on the stool, the world tilts a fraction on its axis when she says, “Cassian?” 

He swears—in Spanish—and his thoughts are moving too fast for this. He shuts his eyes, trying to clear the cloud of whiskey from his mind so he can focus. Jyn is on the other side of this phone call and he can barely even speak English.

“I shouldn’t have called,” he gets out finally and runs a shaking hand through his hair.

“Cassian—“ He doesn’t give her a chance to finish the thought before he hangs up, swearing again. There’s an inch of whiskey left in his glass and he picks it up, the ice clinking. His phone is still in his hand. He wonders if she will call him back. 

The phone stays silent, so he sets down the glass and pushes his way through the bar to the door. The cool February air hits him as the door shuts behind him and he’s grateful for it. The air settles him as he pulls out his phone again and types in her number quick as anything.

She picks up on the first ring.

“I’m sorry,” he says and wishes he sounded more sober. He bites the inside of his cheek and shoves his other hand in his pocket, shivering in the cold.

“Are you drunk?” she asks and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Is that the only situation in which I would apologize to you?” he asks.

“No, you just…” she pauses, thinking probably. He doesn’t know where she is right now, but he can imagine the way her eyebrows are drawn together in a frown. “I know what you sound like when you're sober and you don’t sound it right now.” Several beats of silence pass before she asks, “Why are you calling me?”

He tries to think of an answer that won’t sound pathetic as he watches the orange streetlamp flicker above him.

“Kay is in the bathroom and he had been making sure that I didn’t call you all night,” he says finally, knowing it isn’t an answer and not bringing himself to care. Jyn will ask again anyway, if he knows her as well as he thinks he does.

“That’s not an answer.”

He inhales deeply and says, “Because if I wasn’t drunk right now, I’d drive to you. So calling was the other option,” before his brain can catch up with his mouth. She doesn’t say anything, so he tries again, but this time he lets his brain catch up. He thinks it through, weighs the outcomes, theorizes on her possible responses, and says, “I miss you, Jyn.”

She still won’t say anything, so he digs his nails into his palm and waits quietly. 

“Jyn?” he says finally, because he can’t even hear her breathe on the other end and maybe she has—

“I’m here,” she says finally, her voice careful and measured. It feels odd, for her to be the one who is quiet and reserved while he’s laying himself bare for her on this cold sidewalk across town.

“I shouldn’t have left,” he says. He can tell she isn't going to say more if he doesn’t and his words may not be slurring but the whiskey is still coating his mind resolutely. “I shouldn’t have left, not when I knew everyone else you l—“ He stops himself and remembers suddenly that he’s never told her he loved—loves her. “You’re so used to being left behind. I knew that and I left anyway.” 

He thinks if she was standing before him she’d slap him for saying that.

“Bodhi hasn’t left me,” she says suddenly. “Not _everyone_ I love leaves me.”

“It’s different with me, no?”

“How do you know?” she snaps. “How do you know Bodhi and I aren’t together? I hadn’t seen you in months before last week, we could have—“

“Because if that was true, you would have thrown it in my face long before this conversation,” he says, cutting her off before she can get out her next shot at him.

“Cassian, what are you doing out here?” Cassian bites back a groan. He doesn’t have to turn to know Kay is standing behind him. “You’re talking to Jyn, aren’t you?” It’s phrased as a question, but the tone is anything but. His partner’s jaw is set, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. 

“I am fine, Kay,” he says before Kay can ask.

“I beg to differ,” Kay scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Really, it’s not anything.” He can hear Jyn breathing on the other end and he wonders what she’s thinking. The split second he spends pondering this is one he regrets—Kay has stepped forward, his long arm reaching out for the phone in his hand. Cassian dodges out of the way quickly, but Kay is angry as ever and his hand darts out, snatching the phone from his hand. 

“ _Seriously?_ ”

“ _Clearly_ , you are not capable of sound decision making,” Kay says, lifting the phone to his ear. Cassian runs a hand through his hair again, looking at him in disbelief.

“Are you five years old?”

Kay ignores him and turns to the side, speaking into the phone. “Hello, Jyn.” 

Cassian shoves his hands in his pockets as he watches his partner talk to Jyn, his foot tapping against the pavement. His muscles feel tight and restless.

“I am going to hang up the phone now.” Jyn says something that wipes the indifferent expression off Kay’s face. “What do you mean? Of course I am!”

There’s another pause and Cassian pretends he isn’t straining his ears to hear what Jyn is saying.

“You heard that?” Kay asks, frowning.

“Kay, give me back my phone.” Cassian steps forward, his hand out, though he knows Kay won’t hand it over without question.

“I will return your phone if you swear not to call her again.”

Really, Cassian should have seen that coming. He gestures to his partner to cover the microphone. Kay hesitates, but does so, his hand falling to his side. 

“I’m not doing it to intentionally cause you hurt,” says Kay and Cassian doesn’t bother masking the look of surprise that flits across his face. 

“I know,” he says.

“In fact, I am doing it in order to…” He hesitates, thinking hard. “Maximize your chances at happiness.” When Cassian doesn’t say anything, his partner adds. “There are two possible outcomes here: you get back together, you stay apart. Do you think you will get back together?”

At that, Cassian shifts and turns away, staying silent.

“If you do, by all means, call away. Get back together, I don’t care. But if you aren’t going to get back together, well…If you keep calling Jyn, you will never get over her. I don’t think any of us wants that. Except perhaps Jyn.” Kay smiles sardonically. “She would be the type of person to want someone pining after her for the rest of their days.” Cassian knows it’s a joke, so he lets it slide, his hands shoved in his pockets as he studies the scuffs on his shoes.

“All right,” he says finally. “Give me the phone. I won’t call her after this.”

Kay hesitates, but eventually hands over the phone. It feels heavy in Cassian’s hand and he watches as Kay ducks back inside the bar. He feels a sudden wave of gratitude for the privacy. 

“Jyn?” A beat of silence. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Oh. It’s all right.” She pauses. “I was up anyway.”

“No, you weren’t.” He pauses. “I should go, Kay will—“

“I know.”

“Jyn—“

“Goodnight, Cassian.” 

All he’s met with is the dial tone echoing in his ear.

He is far from surprised when he breaks his promise to Kay within the week. Technically, he only does it once. Kay never said he wasn’t allowed to show up at her apartment. 

Though now that he’s lying awake with the orange light of the streetlamp streaming through Jyn’s window and listening to the sound of Jyn breathing beside him, he’s starting to think he should have taken the promise more seriously.

_Okay_ , he had said. He had promised Kay he wouldn’t call Jyn and he did it anyway. But he also promised Jyn last night that he’d stop coming around for her and he’s never regretted a promise more. He should have turned away then, when she told him _Just this once_.

He doesn’t want _Just this once_.  He doesn’t want to face her in the morning either, not if it really will be _Just this once_.

So he dresses quickly and silently, his eyes resolutely keeping away from Jyn’s still sleeping form. 

He doesn’t bother turning back as he leaves her room quietly, and he doesn’t take a last look when he shuts the front door softly behind him. 

 

* * *

 

**thursday, 8:03 pm**

Cassian comes to the realization that he needs to stop drinking and stop making promises he knows he can’t keep at 8 pm on a Thursday.

“I’m starting to think you sleep here,” Kes says as he slings his bag over his shoulder, flicking the switch on his desk lamp. He approaches Cassian’s desk almost warily, eyeing the cup of coffee in Cassian’s hand, the steam still unfurling over it in slow spirals. “When was the last time you went home before nine?”

“Last week,” Cassian says, the lie coming quickly because it’s easier than saying he doesn’t remember.

“Yeah, I believe that,” scoffs Kes, crossing his arms. “If I did what you were doing, Shara’d kick me out within the week.”

“Then maybe it’s best I’m not married.”

“Yeah,” Kes says, “Maybe,” and it’s the most disingenuous thing he’s ever said to Cassian. “Look, I don’t want to step out of line, or anything…”

Cassian sets his mug down and leans back in his chair, his eyebrows raised as he waits for Kes to finish his sentence.

“But I know you were seeing someone a while back and I just wanted to say…If it’s taken this long for you to be even a fraction of who you were when you were with them, then maybe you need to examine the reasons why you broke up.”

“Look, I appreciate you…looking out for me, or whatever it is you’re doing but I’m fine,” Cassian says, leaning forward and taking a sip of coffee. 

“You’re a good liar, but not that good, Andor,” Kes says with a humorless smile. “I’m just saying, you’re exhausted, you stay late, and drink so much coffee I think you’ve got more coffee than blood in you right now. Plus…” Kes trails off, looking uncomfortable for the first time in the conversation. His eyes flicker to the desk drawer that holds Cassian’s bottle of whiskey. “You were at the top of your game a couple months ago, and that’s saying something. You’re a damn good agent when you’re not running yourself into the ground.”

He can’t find the words to respond to that, so he doesn’t, and sips his coffee, wincing at the watery taste. 

“Anyway,” Kes says after he resigns himself to the fact that Cassian isn’t going to respond, “I should get going. Get some sleep tonight, Andor.”

Cassian simply nods and Kes sighs before turning and weaving his way through the desks to reach the elevator. His phone rings right when he presses the button and Cassian watches as the other agent digs into his pocket for it.

“Hey, I’m leaving the office now,” Kes says into the phone, running his free hand through his hair. “I know, I know, I’ll be home soon, I had filing to do.” There’s a pause where he listens intently to whoever is on the other end—Shara, Cassian assumes. Kes lets out a breathy laugh as he presses the button again, impatient for the elevator to come. “You are _such_ a hypocrite.” He laughs harder at whatever Shara says next, and says, “God, I love you.” Another pause. “Okay. See you soon.” 

The elevator doors slide open and he steps in, leaning against the back wall so he’s facing Cassian now. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. The doors slide shut.

 

* * *

 

**thursday, 8:41 pm**

Without giving himself the time to second guess it, he raps his knuckles on the door. He can hear a crash from the inside and the sound of Jyn swearing and he bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his grin.

“Bodhi, for fuck’s sake, if you—“ The door swings open. Jyn is standing there, wearing her pajamas already. He half expected her to slam the door in his face without missing a beat, but she doesn’t. “I thought I told you—“

“I don’t care,” he says and maybe cutting her off was not the best idea, because her hands are on her hips and she’s glaring at him, not unlike the way she did when they first met, sharp and dangerous. “Well, I do _care_ , if you want me gone, I’m gone. But I don’t think you do—“

“Cassian.” His name is a warning this time and he is bitterly aware of the way her hand is holding the door, poised to slam it in his face. His own hand darts out to press against it and her jaw clenches. He watches as her muscles tense and the door presses back against his hand but he keeps it there, knowing that she won’t be able to slam it if he’s holding it there. 

“Do you want me gone?” he asks. Her grip on the door loosens enough for him to notice, the hesitation clear in her eyes. He lets his hand fall from its place on the door and he hopes she sees it as what it is.

He’s putting the ball in her court, handing her the choice and the control.

The door doesn’t slam in his face, so he takes a step forward. When Jyn doesn’t lean away, doesn’t break her gaze from his, he steps forward again. He’s not certain how long they stand there, each waiting for the other, but after a while, Jyn tilts her head up towards his, her lips parted, and he can read the request written on her face.

She’s the one to take the next step, the one that closes the space between them, but he’s the one to duck his head and press his lips to hers lightly. Jyn lets out a small sigh against him, her arms coming to wind around his neck and her eyelids drifting shut. He wraps his arms around her waist so she’s pulled flush against him. She takes a step back but pulls him with her. He just barely is able to kick the door shut behind him—he’s not entirely sure it even closes, the rushing in his ears is too loud for him to hear it. 

She knows her apartment well, moving seamlessly around the furniture blindly, her lips only breaking from his so she can pull his shirt over his head. Her fingers skim across his chest and his muscles tense at her touch, so he kisses her harder, his fingers digging into her hips as she backs into her bedroom. The backs of her knees hit the bed and she tumbles backward, pulling him with her with a breathless laugh. He narrowly manages to land on his elbows so he doesn’t crush her beneath him, his shoulders shaking with laughter. 

She pulls his head back down to hers, still laughing as she kisses him again.

It could be several seconds, or several minutes, or even an hour later when she pulls away and says, “Not just this once.” His head is still clouded from the way it feels to kiss her again, so he frowns and she adds, “I don’t want it to be just this once,” and he remembers, so he nods. He presses a kiss to her forehead for good measure because he’s not sure he can put enough feeling into the words _me neither_.

 

* * *

 

** friday, 7:27 am **

He wakes to the sight of the back of Jyn’s head. Her hair is fanned out across the pillow, a knotted mess, and the white sheets are pulled close to her chest, fisted in her hands tightly. It’s less difficult than he expects to extricate himself from her. All it takes is a lift of his arm around her waist, a slight shift of his leg. The sound the sheets make when he throws them off is faint but it’s a sound in the otherwise silent room nonetheless. Jyn shifts, but doesn’t wake. He slips his feet onto the floor, his toes curling as they touch the cool surface.

_“Tell me,” he says, wrapping a blanket around himself before throwing himself onto the couch beside Jyn, who is holding the popcorn and looking positively smug, “Is it always this cold, or are you testing me?”_

_Jyn tilts her head and furrows her brow as if she’s thinking hard, before saying, “Maybe a little bit of both.”_

_Cassian grumbles, pulls the blanket tighter around his body, and settles in for a night of incessant teasing on how warm his blood runs._

He shakes the memory from his mind but realizes that, for the first time in a while, a memory from their relationship hasn’t pricked his heart.

He finds his pants quickly, and his shirt too, which is a surprise considering Jyn took to sleeping in his shirts, no matter how nice they were. Jyn's talent for deep sleep, it seems, has not changed much in the months since they last slept together, because she hasn’t woken yet, even when he drops his belt. 

Her kitchen is a mess, unsurprisingly. He hesitates at the cupboard, wondering if he should make a pot of coffee or tea or if the feeling in his stomach is because he feels as though he is intruding. He thinks of the way the deli below her apartment sells watery black coffee for a dollar and fifty cents and leaves the kitchen. His blazer is still thrown over the back of the couch and he shrugs it on, still shivering in the cool air of her apartment. His phone and his badge are on the table by the door, resting below the hook where her keys hang. He slips both into his pocket but makes no move to leave. 

The door to Jyn’s room is still open, her small, curled up frame in his eye line. He’ll be late to work if he stays any longer, so he forces himself to turn away from her door and swallow the temptation to tangle their limbs back together. 

Not much longer after he does so, he hears the sound of Jyn’s feet padding across the floor. Her arms wind around his abdomen from behind, her cheek pressed to his back. He shifts in her arms—not to turn away, but to pull her closer, his own arms tightening around her slight frame. 

“I have to go to work,” he says, after an indeterminate amount of time spent in her arms. He can feel Jyn sigh against him, but she doesn’t pull away.

Her head is buried in his neck, her words muffled by his skin, and her lips are pressed just over his pulse, the soft rhythm reassuring to her. 

“Come back,” she says, so quietly she wonders if he catches it.

(He does.)

**Author's Note:**

> if you're wondering why they fell back together so easily, it's because they just wanted the other to fight for them but neither wanted to be the one to give in. plus i suck at dialogue and every time i tried to write them working through their issues it came out cliched and just plain bad. so let's pretend they talk through their shit when cassian gets home from work.


End file.
